


in·de·pend·ent

by emocsibe



Series: Mag7Week Stories [2]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Backstory, Getting Together, Indentured Servant Billy, M/M, Mainly pre-slash, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Sort Of, for our dearest Billy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 03:09:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12181758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emocsibe/pseuds/emocsibe
Summary: in·de·pend·ent: not dependent; not depending or contingent upon something else for existence, operation, etc.Written for Mag7Week; Day 2; Together || Self-Sufficiency





	in·de·pend·ent

**in·de·pend·ent**

 

First when he arrived to America, he was positively thrilled to put the English his pa taught him to use, to talk to people with this treasure that was a second language, but also he was horrified, because what if. What if people misunderstood him and got to hate him for it? Or what if they wouldn’t understand whatever he decided to say? He wrapped his ragged scarf around his neck tighter as he sauntered down the ramp and with a quick glance behind himself he bid farewell to the vast ocean that now had his younger brother somewhere in its depth and that separated him from two moulds of dirt that once were his parents. He closed his eyes and turned his back on all this, in hopes of gaining himself a life he was promised – by his father and by his contract. The writings on the parchment he kept guarding in the past weeks read things he couldn’t decipher, but he was told by an elderly man that the name that was supposedly there was ‘William Jonah’ and that was enough for him. He would locate this Jonah in the harbour, would work all the years he promised and then he would live a free, safe life.

Jonah, as it turned out, was a man with a deep voice and a burgundy waistcoat, a thick southern accent and kindness that made the boy’s heart flutter in his chest. He was only fourteen then but he had already seen how unkind people can be, even more so when they have power over other beings such as himself in this situation, and maybe that was one factor of why he had taken to this man instantly.

“What is your name, boy?”

He called him boy, although Jonah himself couldn’t be older than twenty-something – and in his stylish clothes he looked even younger than that, but the boy, who had already shed the name his parents had left him with, only smiled and shook his head.

“I ain’t has a new name, sir.”

“Well, that won’t stand – we shall remedy it instantly. Have you heard a name you’d like to have?” Jonah touched his shoulder and led him to a carriage waiting for them, along with two other people that looked lost and – if the boy guessed well – a bit still seasick. He hadn’t seen them on the ship that carried him, so they must have arrived with another one, maybe from this ‘Europe’ he was likely never to see.

“There were a man, John, on the ship. He were not kind, called me things once or twice. I ain’t like the name John” he said, then furrowing his brows, he let out a shaky breath “But there were another, one who helped me how to give my brother to the sea. His name was Billy. He was nice. I wanna be called the same.”

“Billy?” Jonah smiled, then nodded at Billy, completely amused by something he didn’t wait a moment to share “You know my name, Billy?”

“I do, sir, it’s William Jonah, ain’t it?”

“Indeed it is” said the man, clasping a hand around Billy’s shoulder, seemingly unaware how the other two inhabitants of the carriage looked together as if mutely discussing something between themselves “Now, you should know that ‘Billy’ can be a diminutive form of William. In other words, if you like me very much and you’re close to me, you may call me Billy. Although I prefer if those people use ‘Will’. Much nicer, isn’t it?”

“I like it just the same, sir. But I’m more a Billy than a Will I guess.”

“I agree on that, boy. Billy suits you just fine.”

Will Jonah smiled, then, in a heartbeat he was pulled out of the seat, into the hold of the two burly men across them. One of them had a hand wrapped round Jonah’s throat and one of his arms, while the other aimed a pistol at his head. Jonah couldn’t talk, but his eyes did enough talking to convey how surprised and terrified he was, and Billy couldn’t stand that. If there was anything in the world he hated most, it was letting people suffer and live in fear.

“Don’t ya move, kid” one the men warned him, aiming the gun momentarily at him, at which Billy feigned fear and nodded quickly. The gun turned back to Jonah “and now, Mr. Jonah, we are going to talk business.”

The other one nodded and pulled Jonah’s head further back, letting his accomplice dig the barrel of the gun into his throat. Jonah let out a small sound, filled with terror and tried to look at Billy, who was stone still in his seat.

Not for long, though; as soon as the man with the gun raised his hand and slapped Jonah across the face, seemingly lost in this momentarily victory, Billy collapsed to the floor, grabbed the gun out of the man’s hand and tossed it out of the window, knowing not how to use it. He was fast, and his actions were so sudden it earned him a few seconds – which he made the most of. He himself had no weapons since the regulations of the ship hadn’t allowed it, but he knew enough about what hurt the most. He slammed a fist into the closes man’s crotch and one into his face, aiming to break his nose, which was a success according to the nice crashing sound that came from under his fist. The next man was a trickier target for two reason: he had time to realise what’s going on and he also had Jonah in front of him as a shield. But Billy quickly realised that he worried too soon; Jonah clawed at the man’s face with his free hand, going for the eyes and the ears, anything he could reach, and that gave Billy the opportunity to knock him out. The other man was clutching his hands to his nose, curling up on himself, presenting Billy all he needed to knock him out, too.

Jonah, in the meantime, slid down to the floor, shoulders shaking, looking at his hands with disgust and hatred.

“Why did they attack?”

Jonah shook at his voice, although Billy didn’t raise it above a careful whisper, seeing how distressed the man was.

“I do have siblings who are quick to acquire enemies, also we possess enough riches to make most people hate us. Maybe one of these. Or they wanted to exterminate their contracts before it even started. Maybe they didn’t want to work for us, or repaying the money that went into getting them here.”

“Ah.”

“Why did you help? You could have watched them kill me and then ran off wherever you liked.”

Billy offered only a shrug and a whispered ‘Where to?’, then sat down next to Jonah and put an arm around his back, carefully, slowly, trying to offer comfort without stepping over too many boundaries at once. As it turned out, his concern for that was in vain, as for as soon Jonah felt the arm at his back, he curled into Billy’s side, clutching at his scarf, pulling him closer, sobbing quietly until the carriage stopped.

“Sir? Is everything alright?” came a voice from outside, followed by the soft sound of the door opening. A man was standing there, his head more shiny than hairy, pure look of concern on his face. He took a step back at the sight in front of him, then recoiled quickly and stepped closer, closer until he could reach for Jonah and help him out to the ground. Billy followed him.

“Did they attack you?”

“Him” Billy answered, then pointed back to the men still in the cart “Can I get rid of them?”

“Yes, boy, that would be for the best. Just leave them here, they will walk if they want to get somewhere.”

Billy looked at Jonah, kneeling in the dirt, trying to clean his face with the piece of cloth the older man had given him, completely shaken and just as human as Billy was. He picked up the unconscious bodies and if he had let the two attacker fall to the ground a bit more harshly, well… He knew for certain that neither of his companions would judge him for that.

The older man – whose name turned out to be Theo – helped Jonah back to his seat, and then, after Billy climbed back, too, he closed the door and started driving them once again.

“Thank you” Jonah said, and Billy shook his head. He did only what he thought the best; protecting someone who couldn’t protect himself.

 

***

 

As years passed by, Billy’s English got better and his friendship with his master’s oldest son, with Will Jonah, grew, too. They would talk a lot and Will would visit whenever Billy got free hours, or even when he was working on the fields or around the mansion. Will had taught him anything Billy wanted to learn, and in return, Billy aided him when he decided to try his hands at the works his friend did. They were close, closer than Will had ever been to any of his ‘friends’ that were forced on him by his father or the social norms. He preferred Billy’s company to anyone else’s, but he was careful not to attract too much attention to Billy – after all, it would be him that suffered for anything, not Will, the ‘precious eldest’ as his brothers called him.

Him and Billy shared things, things that would cause scandals if they ever got out, things that felt perfect and perfectly normal for them both. They shared embraces and kisses, shared their bodies and their hopes, and plans for after Billy’s contract ended. He had started at fourteen, and now, at twenty, he still had four years to serve, but with Will at his side, with Will in his bed and in his heart, it seemed to be far too close. He liked the casual intimacy that had formed between them, the touches and looks sent and received both burned his heart with affection and desire, but whenever the topic of love came up, he felt that something is missing. He knew that whenever they lay entangled after one of their encounters, the look in his eyes wasn’t the same love he’d seen when his parents looked at each other, that it wasn’t the same love Will seemed to have for him. Nonetheless, he indulged him, loved him to whatever extent he could and gave him everything he desired. He liked Will, and liked how he curled up around him, how he ran his fingers through Billy’s hair, how he kissed him goodnight. He like him, and hoped that one day he would be able to love him with his whole heart and soul, for his kindness was rare, his honest smiles often and his love a treasure.

Things started to go downhill when the old Jonah, Will’s father, fell ill. The doctors tried their best but even they couldn’t work against the power of time, and thus, Master Jonah died of old age in a cold morning, surrounded by his sons. The younger two seemed only mildly annoyed while Will grieved honestly, not yet knowing that the days of his peaceful life were running short. They exchanged cold, calculating glances, then exited the room and left Will alone.

 

***

 

Not even a month later, William Jonah died; two bullets in his head shot from two guns, aimed by two brothers.

 

***

 

Not even an hour later his brothers followed him; one cut on each man’s throat, one bloody line by the one who mourned Will the most.

 

***

 

Billy enjoyed the life on the run, enjoyed how he could go wherever he wanted, enjoyed the times around autumn where people hired him to help out on their farms or around the house. He enjoyed being able to be around people but leave as soon as he so wished – although he missed the old days, the days when Will’s presence had been a constant, and he’d had no worries about food and shelter. Now, on the other hand, he had his freedom and the right to decide where to go and what to do – not legally, of course, but he hoped that in the last decade the relatives and friends of that two snakes had given up on one runaway servant. He took on bounty hunting as a means to support himself, and he quickly became decent in it. The skills he had with knives only increased during the years, as well as his ability to shoot with guns. He hated them because they were loud and the sound and smoke gave away his location, which was not a favourable thing and he also hated them because every time he heard a shot he was reminded how he didn’t hear those that really mattered, how he didn’t know about Will’s death until he stepped back in his room and found him there, clutching at a knife even in his death. It was back then that Billy had decided that he would use knives, he would slash and stab and be quicker than any man with a gun – and this far, he knew he succeeded.

He knew this, he knew it was true, up until he came across a man in a dusty saloon, a man who wore a pistol on his belt and a rifle on his back, but the man he led to the sheriff’s office only sported a bruise on his head and not bullet wounds. He got to know about his inhuman reflexes as the sheriff – apparently a friend of the criminal who was brought in to be exchanged for some money – tried to gun him down. The man drew his pistol without hesitation, shot the sheriff through the heart, and led the one he was leading into one of the cells. Then, when the townspeople gathered around him, ready to take revenge on their fallen protector, the man pulled out a parchment with the sheriff’s face on it.

“You should look for another sheriff, one you know better than him” he said, gestured towards the corpse in the dust and motioned towards the small motel the town had “also that’s where I’m staying, and seeing how I’m owed two bounties, I expect someone will bring it to me after this matter is settled. Until then, ladies, gents.”

Billy gathered quite a few things about him during this scene; his voice could melt butter, his posture screamed around how much surety he had, although the slight shaking of his hands just after the shot were telling another story. He also had a great taste if his clothes and weapons were anything to base his judgement upon – he wore greys and blues with weapons made of dark wood and white accents and Billy found him more attractive than he should have. He knew that men like this one were trouble, that they were in for a night, maybe, and then they outed him and tried to blame him for all of it. He knew, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about going after him and offering him company. For how long this companionship would last was completely up to the man for Billy was bored and had no plans for the foreseeable future, but he was always ready to side with lone travellers – well, those who didn’t freak out after a night.

He wanted to stop himself when he was already at the door, ready to step inside, but he knew that he would regret not giving this man, this possibility a chance. He knew that he had missed on quite a lot of opportunities to fight off his loneliness, and he hoped that this would not be one of them. He approached the bar, keeping his eyes subtly on the man who had seemingly decided that the table in the furthest corner would serve him right, and ordered a drink and asked for a second glass. Without a further glance towards the barkeeper he stepped to the table and sat down, earning a curious glance from the man, noting how pale his eyes were – maybe blue? Or grey?

“Mind if I join?” Billy asked, offering the bottle, indicating that he would like to share its contents. The man nodded and Billy smiled at that, then proceeded to pour from the whiskey he had bought in both of the glasses.

“It seems that you’ve already decided for me, although the drink certainly eases my acceptance towards your company. Goodnight Robicheaux is my name – now may I inquire after yours?”

“Billy Rocks” he answered as he slid one of the glasses towards Goodnight. "That was quite the show outside."

Goodnight ducked his head and looked to the side, maybe to conceal the minute blush that had crept upon his cheeks, or maybe to avoid openly agreeing with Billy. How he had carried himself and how he had talked to the folks was not something many could pull off and walk away with, but Goodnight had just done so.

“You’re quite quick with compliments, Mr Rocks.”

“Even quicker with those” Billy said, pointing a finger towards Goodnight’s rifle, hanging from the back of the chair, barrel shining in the light of the gas lamps.

“Oh, truly?” Goodnight’s face lit up with excitement and soon they were talking about their experiences with guns, fights and the like. They quickly found themselves lost in the topics, up until the setting sun shone through the windows and Goodnight sighed.

“I should take my leave, my friend, better start while the sun is still up. It was nice chatting with you, Mr Rocks, I hope I’ll have the pleasure of meeting you again.”

“Have you not managed to get a room or are you braving the night for the thrill of it?”

“I will be honest with you, I was looking for a room – but there is a most certain lack of that around this fine town. Although I am not inclined to travel further before the sun rises, I find myself at a loss of other choices” Goodnight shrugged and held his hat close to his chest, looking at the dirty boards under his feet. He didn’t look any more ready to part ways than Billy.

“I have a room. If you are not averse to sharing” Billy offered, making it sound light, as if he only casually mentioned it, as if he wasn’t jumping on the opportunity life provided for him. “I know it would be an honour for me to be in the company of such a legend.”

Goodnight’s head snapped up at the offer, a quick smile crawling onto his face, so beautiful and so sudden – so perfect.

“I wouldn’t want to impose on you or your hospitality…” Goodnight started, but Billy stopped him with a look – he was good with that, giving looks that terrified or warned people, but now he aimed for scrutiny.

“I wouldn’t have offered if it was a problem.”

“Then I am inclined to take your offer. I wouldn’t try my luck alone in the wilds if it wasn’t strictly necessary” Goodnight smiled at him gratefully. “I can’t thank you enough for your kindness.”

“Such fancy words for one simple offer” Billy said, with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then drinking the remainder of his drink, he stood up. “Shall we, then?”

They headed towards the stairs in silence, and Billy used this time to observe Goodnight. While his friendly offer was genuine, Goodnight was eager enough to accept it and something suspiciously similar to hope started bubbling in Billy’s chest. He tried to pay no mind to it – he would rather not fool himself. He had taken this whole venture one step at a time, he wasn’t about to slip up now.

They soon arrived to the right door and Billy unlocked it without a word. The room was small and smelled of watered dirt, possibly as a result of someone trying to wash the floor – rather unsuccessfully. The windows had heavy curtains in front of them, decorated with holes, curtesy of the moths that were native and constant dwellers of the establishment, only adding to its dust-framed charm.

Billy looked at the single bed that stood at the wall, then at Goodnight, wishing to see how he reacted to the rather huge possibility of them having to share a bed. Goodnight’s reaction wasn’t what Billy dreaded and it certainly wasn’t anything like he hoped for. He just nodded and put his hat and gun down on the nightstand and stood there awkwardly for a moment. Billy shut the door and sat on the chair, pulling out a knife from his vest, then another – and two more. Goodnight eyed him warily but Billy only shook his head and raised a knife to show it to him.

“I told you I’m good with guns. I’m better with these. They are good against whoever wants to hurt me.”

“I hope you don’t have to use it too much. As much as this is the land of the promises, it can get nasty.”

“I noticed, but nothing I can’t handle. Although sometimes it gets harder to fend for myself. Mainly when a man people know claims that I want to corrupt him. Which usually starts like a thing we both wish for. Funny how it changes at the smallest hints of them being interested in such.”

Goodnight turned towards him and tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes as he took in Billy’s relaxed posture and the way he positioned himself away from the door, warranting Goodnight a way out if he so wished.

“You mean… You and them…?” Goodnight always prided himself in his capacity to speak to anyone and about anything, but now he found himself at a lack of words.

“Me and them involved in a sexual way? Yes.”

“Is that why you made this offer to me?”

“Well…” Billy started, and finally putting down the knife he stood up, then with all the calmness in the world, he took a step towards Goodnight, then another, until he was just shy of being in his personal space.

“It might have been one of the reasons” he reached up and with precise, slow motions he smoothed down the creases on his lapels – then he pulled his hands back and waited, then added in a serious but hoping tone. “but it’s entirely up to you how we proceed.”

“Oh. I’m, I’m flattered, really, Mr Rocks, I certainly am, but… How do I know that I can trust you?”

For a moment, Billy caught something on Goodnight’s face, something so quick and painful he thought he might understand. The look he had had on his own face after someone claiming to be willing only proved to be down for a fight and not for any kind of intimacy that sat well with Billy. He’d originally wanted to push, to see how long would it take for him to get the other man to agree, but now, now he didn’t want to do that. Somehow that look made him reconsider – not the proposal, but the approach.

“You don’t. I understand.”

“Thank you, mon ami” Goodnight sighed and put his hat down to the drawer, then, after standing still for a few moments he turned around and looked Billy in the eyes, all sadness vanished, replaced by hope “But maybe we can come to a better arrangement?”

Billy hummed, and nodded his head, indicating that he’d like to hear it, so Goody spoke. He spoke about sticking together, travelling side-by-side for a few weeks maybe, earning bounties quicker, more efficiently that way, mending their problems with being lonely, too. Billy agreed.

 

***

 

The few weeks turned into few months, then a year and a half, when the weather made them stop at a hotel instead of someplace near to a river as their custom was.

The logs in the fireplace were crackling, their light flickering around, painting the furniture red, making the room seem like the home Goodnight had always dreamt about but had never been able to achieve. There was a rustle from the small, adjoined washing room – Billy, based on the curses, shaving – and Goodnight had to close his eyes, had to lay back on the bed ad embrace the feeling, had to think that if he ever faced death, he would cling to this memory. He was finally able to claim that he had another friend he had grown to trust – but Sam, well, he wasn’t around anymore, he was minding his own business somewhere which kind of left Billy as the only person he trusted with his life and with the tricks his mind seemed to pull from time to time. He was lying on the bed, almost asleep already when Billy entered the room, but Goodnight opened his eyes to see the red light catch on Billy’s hair, hoping that he would see it in his dreams. He got to see it, Billy’s hair, just as beautiful as he’d imagined – and then, his gaze stole lower, down on his back, scarred and still full of droplets of water after his bath, and Goodnight wanted to stare at only what his breeches didn’t cover, but. But there were no breeches on Billy, or a towel or anything else, and even though they both could claim to have seen the other naked, this was somehow different. Goodnight blamed it on the warm light that wrapped around Billy’s muscles, that gave his skin an ethereal glow, that grew the shadows into accents on his body, that light that made him look more wonderful than any person ever could be.

He only realised his slip of a tongue when Billy turned, and Goodnight found himself looking up, right into Billy’s face. Billy’s smile was coy, his movements as he walked to the bed soft and his eyes filled with something Goodnight felt being reflected in his chest. He pulled Billy next to him, smoothed his palm on his cheek and drew him in for a kiss, one that could have competed with the fireplace when it came to warmth. He felt Billy undressing him and he felt Billy’s skin and his hair beneath his fingers, he felt his lips and his breath – he felt like a man in love.

 

***

 

When Billy woke up the next day he felt Goodnight’s skin under his palm, he felt his heartbeat – and he also felt the chilly air so he pulled up the duvet all the way to his neck and huddled closer to his friend, his lover. He was content like that, knowing that nothing in the world made him stay and yet, he opted to do so, knowing that if he ever truly wanted to leave, Goodnight would not hold him back – but he also knew that if this happened, he’d break. He choose to travel with Goodnight, choose to live with him – but somehow loving him wasn’t a choice he’d made; that had crept in his heart like a small worm, nesting there, reluctant to leave. He was happy and he knew that what he’d once wanted to give Will Jonah, his love – all of it, all of that beautiful, warm feeling – was now given to Goodnight. He nuzzled his head against Goodnight’s shoulder and smiled. He was at home.

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to @SheenaWilde who made me finish this one - even though I wanted to toss it in the trash and give up with Day2 - and who also helped writing the parts that were too much for me today.


End file.
